Frozen Interiors
Tiny shards of snow
invade my formerly taut skin
as the sky unfolds into
layers of whiteness
against a backdrop that turns
from white to black to gray
hovering above frozen ripples
in the hill that divides
the upper field of green grass
from the lower,
pockmarked with straw-like weeds
and piles of frozen cow dung.
There is no cessation
of tiny white snowflakes while
the landscape becomes
reburied in white and a calm
breathes over the firm earth
though I am still rife with
cellular connections,
nerves popping
on the brink of explosion
as if that frozen pile has mutated
my fibers into shards of ice.